Manifold Identity
by FunbagsMcBooty
Summary: Cuddy is being stalked, but there's much more to it than meets the eye. I got sucked into the whole stalker S/L, but gave it my own twist All our favorite things Huddy smut, violence, and suspense! Rated M
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **There is/will be violence, sex, and at certain parts A LOT of cussing. I recommend not reading this unless you're at least 18.  
The idea is from an episode of Charmed, but I won't say which one or it will completely screw up everything I have planned.

You guys need to play detective. Things aren't going to just suddenly fall into place. Several mysteries won't be answered until the end, such as the mirrors.

* * *

"What the hell?"

Cuddy's forehead wrinkled at the sight of her front door wide open. There was no way she had left it that way; she was too neurotic for that, and no one she knew would be so careless as to leave it that way. That left one other option; someone she didn't know had made themselves right at home.

Her steps became lighter as she neared the door, her hand diving into her purse until it cam in contact with the cool metal of her pepper spray bottle. She doubted that anyone was still there, but she wasn't taking any chances.

There were no lights on; save for the lamp in the living room, and the one above the stove; both of which she had left on before leaving for the day.

She lightly stepped through the foyer, stopping when she felt something crunch beneath her foot, accompanied with the sharp sound of glass breaking. Her head instinctively shot out, and flipped the light on.

The moment it was on she noticed that the mirror next to the light switch was shattered, and looking down at her feet only confirmed that.

She placed a hand on the table against the wall, stepping over the shattered glass, and into the living room. The first mirror had seemed like an accident; maybe the intruder had opened the door too hard and smashed it in the process, but the fact that there were three more broken mirrors (two in the living room, one in the hall) led her to believe that it was done deliberately.

What was the point of that? She had a 42' HDTV sitting right in her living room, and they hadn't even touched it. Instead they'd taken the time to break every mirror in her house, it wasn't heartbreaking, just a pain in the ass.

She let out an exasperated sigh as she walked to the center of her living room, her hands running over her face. If they hadn't taken her TV maybe they hadn't taken anything else; at least that was what she was hoping for.

It made her feel so violated to know that someone had been in her home without her permission. Her home was her sanctuary, she felt safe there, and now that a stranger had been able to get in she felt like that safety had been stolen.

Her fingers trailed over her lips as she tried to decide whether or not to call the cops; or if she'd even be able to tell them what had happened. Broken mirrors weren't exactly a felony, it was just weird.

Before she had even begun to think about the course of action she would take she heard footsteps behind her. They were soft, and slow; but they were there. Her body froze, her eyes widening. She was too scared to return her hand to her purse for her pepper spray, and even more afraid to turn around; but she knew she couldn't just stand there.

She found herself regretting the fact that she always wore heels, because it was going to be a little hard to run. She decided to make her move before she lost her nerve, and spun around only to be met with the feeling of her body slamming into another. She let out an involuntary scream that was cut off by a searing pain in her head.

Her body fell to the floor with a loud thump, followed by another more metallic one. She groaned as she heard the footsteps come closer and felt something brush against her cheek before the steps moved away again.

And then she was out. She hadn't seen anything, hadn't heard any voices, but something told her that whoever had been in her home hadn't been there to rob her.

* * *

"House!"

The doors of his office crashed open, causing him to curse under his breath as he spilled a bit of his coffee onto his pants.

"It's called knocking!"

He looked up to see the worried faces of his team, and Wilson.

"Is this an intervention?"

"It's Cuddy."

"Funny…I didn't know I was addicted to her."

Wilson rolled his eyes as he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head so that his hair swung over her forehead.

"No, Cuddy was just brought in by the paramedics, her gardener found her unconscious on her living room floor."

His eyebrows knitted together as he leaned forward, his hand instantly going to his cane. He stood up quickly, rounding his desk, and made his way out of his office, the other five in tow.

"Is she responsive?"

Thirteen chimed in as she jogged along side him; for a cripple he sure could move fast.

"She's awake now. She was slipping in and out in the ambulance but everything seems fine."

House hurried onto the elevator, jabbing his finger at the button to close the doors.

"She's on the third floor!"

Wilson shouted to him before the doors had shut all the way, and he hit the button with the giant '3' on it. He should have guessed that. That was where the fancy, private rooms were, and Cuddy was definitely the kind of person that would get one.

The second the doors slid open he launched himself into the hall, hobbling toward Cuddy's room. It was obvious which one was hers as there was a mob of people waiting outside. He pushed his way through the crowd, and pulled the glass door to the side, letting himself in.

Her room was filled with balloons, flowers, cards, and stuffed animals of various species; apparently it didn't take long for word of the Dean of Medicine being admitted to get out, and everyone no doubt wanted to be on Cuddy's good side when she recovered.

She lifted her head at the sound of House's cane tapping rhythmically on the tile floor. Her hand held the ice pack against her forehead, but it still didn't cover the bruising, and swelling that had made its way to her left eye.

It could have been worse. She could be dead, or in a coma, or she could have been kidnapped and ended up in much worse shape.

House made his way over to her bed, gently grabbing her wrist and pulled her hand away to examine the three small stitches in the middle of the golf ball sized lump.

"You have a fan club in the hall."

"I know. I saw them."

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

She pulled her hand away, pressing the ice pack back to her forehead. It was throbbing, and the headache she had was nearly blinding.

"Cuddy…"

"I don't! I came home, the door was open, all the mirrors in my house were smashed, and then…that's all I can remember."

"Well, there was obviously someone there. Didn't you see them?"

"If I did I'm pretty sure I would have told the police that."

"The police were here?"

She nodded slowly, not wanting to make the dizziness she felt any worse.

"Yeah…they're at my house now."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I mean…yeah, just a little shaken up."

"Was anything missing?"

"Not that I saw, just broken mirrors."

He nodded, letting his eyes travel over her face. She looked worried, and that was understandable.

"When are you checking out?"

"In a couple of hours. Wilson wants to make sure nothing else is wrong."

"He's your attending?"

She nodded, laying her head back on the pillow.

"Yeah, I guess he was the first doctor to hear that I was being brought in."

He nodded as he thumped his cane against the floor.

"Sooo…where are you going when you get out?"

"I don't know…I can't go back to my house; they're still investigating, and I don't really feel comfortable going back yet. I'll probably just get a hotel room."

"Why don't you stay with me?"

Both seemed a little surprised that he had asked her that.

"House…"

"Yeah…I know. I just figured you'd rather sleep somewhere you know rather than some germ infested hotel room."

"Your place isn't much better."

He smirked at that, looking up at her; even in this state she didn't lose that mouth of hers.

"C'mon, what could go wrong?"

"This…we…"

She waved her hand between the two of them, her forehead creased as much as possible without hurting herself.

"We are just a…we aren't anything."

"I know that."

"Then why are you here? You wouldn't be so caring, and supportive if we weren't sleeping together. Don't make this complicated."

"I'm not. I just figured you didn't need me to be an asshole right now."

"When has that ever stopped you before? If you start acting like you actually give a damn how I'm feeling then everything is just going to get confusing, and someone is going to end up getting hurt."

"You mean you're going to end up getting hurt."

"Yeah…face it House, your track record with women isn't without a few black marks."

"I may act like an arrogant son of a bitch; okay… I _am_ an arrogant son of a bitch, but I don't always have to be one."

"Yes you do. You've said it yourself, 'people don't change'. I don't want you to put an act on for me, I'd rather have you be yourself than pretend to be something your not."

"Okay, fine. I want you come to my place because I'm horny, and if something happens to you I want to be there to make sure you don't die because then I'll have to go back to hookers, and I'll have to train a whole new Dean to twist to my ever beckon call."

Cuddy pursed her lips together, nodding slowly.

"Less than twenty-four hours after a concussion and you're already thinking about sex. I think that might be a new record for you."

"Nah, I'm pretty much always thinking about sex."

"So I've noticed."

"You gonna come or not?"

"Depends on how hard you work for it."

He smirked, wagging his pointer finger at her.

"Oh, how naughty my little school girl can be."

Her eyebrow raised in question as she brought the ice pack down.

"New fantasy, don't knock it till you try it."

"I'm not role playing with you."

He clicked his tongue and looked away, feigning a pout.

"Fine, I'll settle for desperate-middle-aged-boss-seeking-sperm-from-helpless-employee."

"You make me sound like a succubus."

"Well, you kinda are, but I prefer she-devil, sounds sexier."

"You're such an ass."

"You asked for it."

His hand gently smacked her thigh, and he squeezed it gently.

"I'll come by around five…maybe earlier since you can't get on my ass about doing clinic."

"You still have to do your job."

"Apparently you haven't read the studies. Because you're incapacitated at the moment half the people around here aren't going to do what they _have_ to."

She squinted a bit, her head cocking to the side.

"It's a proven fact. When the boss isn't around the employees slack off. Kind of like that cat'n'mouse line…"

"Right. I'll see you at five."

"Aye, aye, capi-tan"

He stood up, limping his way to the door, when he slid it open there seemed to be more people there than before he had arrived.

"My god, people! She's not Britney Spears!"

The door slid shut behind him, and the smiled faded from her face before she let out a long sigh. She had no intention of letting anyone know just how scared she was. There had to have been some reason as to why whoever was in her home hadn't taken anything. People didn't usually break into someone's house just to smash a couple of mirrors, and hit the owner over the head.

Of course she could have just been paranoid; there was a very good possibility that she had just shown up at the worst possible time and the crook hadn't had time to get out with his loot.

Whatever the reason it didn't sit right with her, and the more she tried to forget about it the more she thought about it. She was glad House had invited her over, because even though he was a cripple, and probably couldn't fight worth a damn, she somehow felt much safer with him.

She sighed as she settled herself in the bed, deciding she needed to get some sleep now before it got dark, because the second the sun went down all of her fears would come out.


	2. Rude Interruptions

"Home, sweet home!"

House tossed his keys onto his desk, hooking his cane on the molding above the door before he hobbled over to the couch. Cuddy followed in soon after, pulling a bag behind her.

"Do you ever put anything away?"

He flopped down in his seat, pulling his bum leg onto the coffee table, and massaged his sore thigh.

"Don't need to, I know where everything is."

"I'm sure you do."

She wheeled her bag against the wall after shutting the door behind herself, and joined House on the couch.

"So, are you going to actually sleep in the bed with me this time?"

"Are you going to try anything?"

"Do you want the truth?"

"Yes."

"Then yes."

"Pig."

"You keep calling me that but you're the one that calls me to tell me you wanna have sex."

"I call you to tell you that I'm ovulating."

"Yeah…see, the way I say it makes it sound better."

"It makes it sound crude."

"It's my middle name."

He dropped his hand onto her thigh, causing her to raise her eyebrows, and turn her head to look at him.

"Someone broke into my house, attacked me, and I have a concussion and you're trying to put the moves on me?"

"I thought I made it clear that those were my plans."

"I thought you were joking."

"Have I ever joked about this before?"

"I'm not even ovulating."

"Doesn't mean it couldn't happen."

"I can't even get pregnant when it's _supposed _to happen."

"Well, maybe you should stop trying."

"…what?"

"I don't mean stop, stop…just…stop thinking about it when we do it."

"I don't."

"Yes you do. I've slept with you before this whole baby thing you were a lot less reserved. You didn't become Partypants in college for nothing."

Her cheeks flushed as she looked away from him, clearing her throat.

"This isn't about sex."

"Maybe if you were having fun it would happen faster."

"That's the stupidest thing you've ever said."

"I'm pretty sure it's not. Think about it. Did you have fun doing IVF?"

"…no."

"Exactly. Are you having fun laying there while I do all the work?"

"Maybe."

"You're not, I can tell."

"How can you tell?"

She rolled her eyes as she turned her head to look at him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Past experience."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"People don't change, Cuddy."

"Yeah…"

She looked away from him, chewing on the inside of her cheek, feeling his hand slowly traveling up her thigh. Shivers moved their way up her spine at the gentle touch, and she found her eyes slowly closing.

"Bedroom?"

He leaned over, gently kissing her neck, and let his hand slide up over her flat stomach before cupping her breast in her hand.

"We shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Concussion."

"Doctor. Don't worry, if anything happens I'll be right there."

Cuddy took in a slow breath when his hand gently squeezed the rounded globe, and nipped at her neck. She ran her tongue over her lips, nodding slowly.

"Okay…"

He smirked, pulling his leg down from the table, and brought her with him. His arms wrapped around her waist as they stood, and he pressed her lips to his. She took in a deep breath, gently slipping her tongue into his mouth as her arms circled his neck.

House nudged her toward his bedroom, not breaking the kiss. In the beginning she had been adamant about not kissing; she hadn't wanted any passion to be involved in what they were doing. She was sleeping with him, yes, but for a purpose. He was a good candidate, and he had only agreed if they went about the whole thing the natural way; and being that she did whatever House wanted she caved.

Over time things had become much more heated, it was no longer a hurried thing; they took their time with foreplay, and usually ended up falling asleep in one or the others bed. The whole thing scared her. She wanted to do this with no string attached, and so far it didn't seem to be going that way.

Before she knew it she felt the edge of the bed against the back of her legs, and House was slowly pushing her onto her back. Her hands tangled in the front of his shirt, taking him with her. It turned out to be a bad choice because House's leg gave out on him, and he collapsed on top of her, a bit harder than he had meant to.

The couple let out muffled laughs as they kissed, their hands moving anything but gracefully to get the others clothes off.

Cuddy's shirt was the first thing to be removed, the buttons making it easier for him to undress her without having to break their passionate lip lock. His hands wandered over the newly exposed flesh, and he reluctantly broke away from her mouth, trailing his own down her neck. The kisses were accompanied but gentle nips and long laps from his skilled tongue.

"House."

His name rolled off of her tongue along with a few moans. She hated him. Hated that he could do this to her, and that he was making her fall for him. She hated him for being able to get her to bend to his every whim, and hated that she kept doing it.

Her hands gripped the bottom of his shirt, and she pulled it up, signaling for him to let up enough for her to pull it off. She tossed the t-shirt to the side, her nails gently scraping up his back. House let out a slight hiss as he reattached his mouth to her neck, sucking with a more feverish need. She'd no doubt have a mark the next day, but she'd learned to cover them up.

House slowly pushed his hand under her back, unhooking her bra, and slowly slid it down her arms. He leaned up to take in the sight before him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He'd seen her naked more than a dozen times, and he still wasn't tired of it.

"You're gorgeous."

Her heart lurched in her chest, and her head slowly shook. This was getting far too complicated, but she couldn't…wouldn't stop it. She was becoming addicted to this, and even though she knew she'd probably end up heartbroken a part of her was telling her that it was better than not taking that chance.

She pulled his head down to hers before slowly pushing him onto his back, straddling his waist. She needed to get control on the situation or she'd be falling headlong into a death trap. Their tongues battled against each other; both of them wanted the dominance of the moment, and because neither would give it up things just got hotter.

House broke from the kiss, his arms wrapping around her lower back while he moved his lips down her chest to her breasts. He drew a nipple into his mouth, which in turn brought out a loud moan from Cuddy. She dropped her head back, her arms wrapping around the back of his head.

His hands slid around her sides to her hips, tugging her skirt up over her hips. He smirked as he ran his hands over her ass, noting that she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"You can stop smirking, it wasn't done on purpose."

"Shh, you're ruining the moment."

She smirked, and pulled his head back up toward her, kissing him deeply.

His hands had slowly been sliding to her inner thighs, causing her heart to beat faster and faster; then, as if on cue, House's phone rang loudly, stilling his hands. They both let out an annoyed groan, and Cuddy dropped her head back.

"You should get that."

"Why?"

"Because you have a patient, it could be important."

He sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he wrapped on arm around her lower back to make sure she didn't fall of his lap, and he leaned over, snatching the phone up.

"This better be important."

His forehead wrinkled at the voice on the other end, and held the phone out to Cuddy. Her forehead wrinkled, but she quickly stopped as a pain shot through her forehead. House shrugged, and she took the phone from him.

Normally they would have found it odd that someone was calling House's apartment in order to talk to her, but everyone had been informed that she would be staying there, and no one questioned it. Sure they acted like they hated each other, but they'd known one another for over two decades so there was obviously a strong friendship there. Of course there were the few, okay, the few dozen, which believed that they were sleeping together, and had been for years.

"Dr. Cuddy."

Her eyes rolled closed as she felt House kissing her neck again. She had to fight hard not to let out a moan as she listened to the person on the other end. All she could say was a few 'mhm's and 'uh huh's or she knew she'd give herself away. She sighed heavily at was she was being told, and her eyes popped open.

"Yeah, it's not a problem. Thank you."

She hit the red button on the phone to end the call, looking apologetically at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"They want to ask me few things."

"Can't it wait?"

"Apparently not."

She climbed off of his lap, giving him one final peck on the lips before she gathered her clothes up from the floor, and put them back on.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You shouldn't be driving."

"I'll be fine. Stop being so paranoid, I want the snarky House.

She smirked a bit as she buttoned up her shirt, and turned on her heel to walk from the room. She snatched up her purse and House's car keys before moving to the door.

"Don't crash my car!"

"Maybe!"

There were a lot of things Lisa Cuddy was good at, but driving was not one of them. She had been taught at age fifteen by her overzealous uncle. He had a bad temper, and a bit of a drinking problem so the only thing he had really taught her was how to yell obscenities while giving the finger, and not crashing the car.

* * *

The familiar sound of heels echoed through the precinct as Cuddy made her way into the room, clutching the strap of her purse. This seemed like a lot of trouble for something that she didn't even remember, but being the law abiding citizen that she was she went along with it, smile and all.

"Detective Moore."

He swiveled in his chair, pulling his glasses from their place on his nose as a quizzical look formed on his face.

"Dr. Cuddy…this is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

A look that matched the detective's moved its way over her face.

"Wha…I got a call, I was told that you had some questions for me."

He frowned, slowly shaking his head.

"No, we've got everything we need."

"Well…are you sure? It wasn't another detective?"

"No, I can assure you we didn't make any calls."

She slowly nodded, looking a bit dazed.

"Oh...okay…I must've…I must've heard wrong. Concussion, ya know."

The detective offered a sympathetic smile and nodded his head once. He opened his mouth to say something but she had already turned to walk out of the room. Someone was screwing with her, and as much as she wanted to deny it there was too much working against that hope.

She tried to convince herself that the attack, and the phone call had nothing in common with one another, because then that would mean there really was something wrong, that she wasn't just some random victim, and that was a fact that she just couldn't accept.

There was the small possibility that it was a coincidence, but sometimes it was anything but.


	3. Little Gifts

She just wanted to sleep. It didn't seem like a lot to ask for. She wanted to be able to close her eyes, and drift into a state of relaxation where didn't have to worry about anything. Of course her luck was never good, so she was stuck lying awake, House's arm draped over her stomach while she stared at the ceiling.

It'd been a week since the attack, but she still hadn't been able to get over it. It probably didn't help that she had talked House into moving their little deal back to her place in order to feel safer. She thought being in surroundings she was familiar with would make things better, but the fact that her attacker was also familiar with them made it seem more of a downfall than anything else.

Not a minute went by that she didn't wonder whether or not whoever had been screwing with her was done, or were just waiting for the right moment to strike again.

She turned her head to look at the man sleeping next to her. His face was smushed into the pillow, and his graying hair was ruffled from the night's events. She'd been ovulating, so of course they were having a lot of sex, but she wasn't enjoying it as much as she once had, her mind was on other things, and even though she tried hard to forget everything else and focus only on House it was becoming more than difficult.

A cool breeze blew through the open window, and she pulled her body closer to his, trying to draw heat from him. His grip tightened around her waist, and he gently kissed her shoulder; her signal to start pretending she was asleep.

Normally he wouldn't have fallen for it, but she had worn him out and some things just didn't matter. She kept her eyes shut until she was sure that she was in the clear, letting out a heavy sigh as she tried to think of a way to get out of his hold without waking him.

At least an hour passed before she even attempted to move from House, but she was quickly stilled as she heard a thump against the outside of her room. Her forehead wrinkled as she sat up, her fingers moving through her curly hair, gently shaking him awake.

"House!"

She whispered as loudly as she possibly could without alerting whoever, or whatever had made the noise. He groaned, pulling the pillow over his head, and smacked her hand away from him.

"Damn it, House!"

The pillow was yanked from his head, and he shot her an annoyed look.

"I need to sleep, woman!"

"There's someone outside."

"Yeah, it's Santa Clause."

"It's the middle of July."

"…go to sleep."

"I can't! I told you; there's someone outside! Just go look. Please?"

He just lay there for a few seconds before letting out an annoyed groan, and struggled to get out of the bed. He snatched his boxers from the floor and slid them on before grabbing his cane, and standing up with a few cracks coming from his joints.

"Where did you hear it?"

"Outside the window."

He rolled his eyes as he hobbled over to it, poking his head out to glance around.

"There's nothing here."

"Are you sure?"

"I have a bum leg, I'm not blind."

She nodded slowly, her fingers running through her mussed hair as House plopped back down on his side of the bed, a loud groan echoing through the room while he yanked his leg onto it.

"Go back to sleep, Cuddy."

"I can't."

"You haven't tried."

"Because I know I won't be able to."

Cuddy kicked her legs over the edge of the bed, pulling the sheets from her nude body. Her hand instantly went to the foot of her bed for her robe, but she came up with nothing. Her forehead wrinkled as she turned to look for it, but it wasn't anywhere that she could see.

"Have you seen my robe?"

"It probably fell. You weren't exactly stationary last night."

She rolled her eyes a she stood up, searching the area for the light grey cover-up. It was nowhere on the floor that she could see so she got on her knees, peeking under the bed; still nothing.

"Maybe it's in the bathroom."

Her head poked up as she rested her hand on the bed, her eyebrow arched.

"When have you ever known me to take my robe anywhere but the bedroom?"

He shrugged, his hand moving over his face with a grumble.

"I don't know, Cuddy. Just get back in bed."

She made an annoyed sound as she moved to the dresser, pulling out a light tank top, and a matching pair of shorts.

"You don't think it's weird that my robe just suddenly went missing?"

"I think it's weird that you're being so paranoid about a robe. You probably just left it somewhere."

House folded his hands behind his head as Cuddy turned to look at him. How could he be so calm? Too many strange things had been happening to her to just ignore things like this; no matter how small. He thought she was overreacting (and maybe she was) but she wasn't taking any chances.

She walked to the bed, snatching her pillow up from her side of the bed, causing him to frown as he looked over at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you. I can't sleep."

He gently took hold of her arm, his thumb trailing over the smooth underside of it.

"This is really freaking you out, huh?"

She pulled her arm away, shaking her head. She didn't want him to care; didn't want him to give her those concerned looks, or to be so gentle with her. She needed him to be himself, and for him to tell her to suck it up and stop being so neurotic.

"I'm fine."

"You're obviously not or you wouldn't be laying awake every night, or having nightmares."

"I'm not having nightmares."

"That's why I wake up to you whimpering?"

Her lips pursed together as she looked down. She had been having nightmares, but she hadn't been aware that she had been showing any signs of it.

"Maybe you should go."

"Why?"

"Because…I want you to."

He stared at her for a few moments, looking more than a bit irritated. He simply shook his head, kicking his legs over the edge of the bed and started getting dressed. He didn't quite understand what she wanted from him, and he was getting tired of trying to figure out what it was. She obviously didn't want him for anything than to help her get pregnant, so there was really no reason for him to stick around.

It took him less than ten minutes to finish getting ready, and then he left without so much as a good bye. She let out a sigh as she heard the door shut behind him, and plopped down on the bed.

She felt horrible for treating him like this, but she'd rather hurt him before he had the chance to hurt her. It was a bad tactic but it was working for her, at least it was until she decided to stop being so stubborn and admitted to herself that like or not she needed him.

Being scared wasn't something she was used to, but after all the weird things that had been happening she couldn't seem to shake the anxious feeling the burned deep in her belly.

Her eyes trailed to the open window where the curtains were blowing freely, and she felt a cold fear move up her body, leaving her almost paralyzed. There was no one there, so why was she freaking out so much? She pushed herself to her feet and walked to the window, shutting it quickly, and threw the latch.

This whole being paranoid thing was getting on her last nerve, and the sooner it was done with, the better.

The signature sound of Cuddy's heels sounded through the room as she entered the clinic, making a beeline for her office. She was tired of all the awkward glances from her employees, because she could just imagine what they were thinking.

She was a woman that had to be in control of everything, and her attack had definitely been something that she had had no control over. It really was a wonder how she'd been able to keep herself so composed thus far.

Her hand came into contact with the first glass down with her name etched onto the front, and she was greeted with the cheery voice of her assistant.

"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy!"

"Good morning…"

She purposely skipped over her name as she hadn't taken the time to learn it. It was probably a bitchy thing to do, but she went through more assistants than she did shoes (and that was saying something).

"Your mail and coffee are on your desk along with some messages. Oh! And you got a package."

"Thanks."

Cuddy stepped forward to move into her office, but was stopped by the young woman's voice.

"It's Vanessa, by the way."

"Huh?"

"My name; it's Vanessa."

"Right…I know that."

She forced a smile before pushing her way through the familiar doors, her eyes instantly falling on the white box lying across her desk. Her forehead creased as she saw that there was an unusual ribbon tied around it. It wasn't even a ribbon at all, just cloth, a light grey cloth.

She drew in a sharp breath as she stepped closer, her fingers gingerly reaching out to take hold of it. It was the belt that went to her robe. Maybe she wasn't being so paranoid after all. After swallowing the hard lump in her throat she tugged at the belt, watching it come undone, and quickly moved to pull the lid off.

"Oh my god!"

Her hand instantly flew to her mouth as she felt bile rising up her throat. Inside was a rotting fish, maggots crawling over the dead carcass. The stench instantly filled her office, burning her nose as she breathed in.

Definitely not paranoid.

She slammed the lid back onto the box before hurrying to the door. She yanked it open, looking more frightened than anything else.

"Who delivered that?!"

Vanessa looked up with a bit of confusion on her face, pulling her hands down from the keyboard. Her lips turned down into a frown and she shook her head.

"Who…brought…that package?!"

She spread out her words in order to put emphasis on the importance of her question.

"I…uh...it was just some guy; from UPS I think."

"Call the cops."

"Why?"

"Just do it. Ask for Detective Moore…"

She pushed her way back into the office, quickly searching out a cane of Lysol and sprayed down the entire room in hopes to get rid of the nauseating stench.

Her heart was hammering in her chest by the time she was satisfied with the smell of her office, and she took a seat on the sofa along the far wall. Her robe hadn't been missing when she'd finally gotten the nerve to go home; it had been there before she'd fallen asleep the night before with House. That meant that whoever had taken it had come in while they were sleeping. There had been a stranger in her bedroom and she hadn't known it.

The realization of how simple it would have been for this person to kill her was slowly sinking in. She'd locked the doors, and all the windows, and they had still been able to get in. She suddenly regretted being so neurotic. It was probably her own fault that it had been so simple for someone to get in. She had at least five spare keys hidden somewhere around her house, but apparently not hidden well enough.

She took a deep breath as she tried to calm her nerves; it would do no good to let herself get sick over this. It had already happened, there wasn't much she could do about it now but make sure it didn't happen again. She'd purposely been avoiding the fact that she'd been delivered a dead fish because she really didn't want to know what that meant. It could have just been something to scare her, at least that's what she was hoping for.

Her thought process was interrupted when her office door slammed open, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She wasn't surprised to see House standing there, but she had still been caught off guard.

"House! What the hell?!"

He held up a stack of glossy 8x10 photographs and tossed them at her, looking angry ( at least that was how she took it).

"What are these?"

She asked as she picked them up, her eyes studying the figures in them. It took her a few seconds to register what she was seeing, but once she had her mouth fell open, and she stammered. The look on House's face hadn't been anger, it had been fear.

"Still think I'm being paranoid?"

She lifted her head to look at him, and he simply shook his no. Something was going on, and it didn't look like it was stopping any time soon.


End file.
